


is it fate or chance? (I can never decide)

by itbelynx



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Backstory, Gen, Memories, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 15:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21914884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itbelynx/pseuds/itbelynx
Summary: a telling of the story of the ermendruds
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	is it fate or chance? (I can never decide)

**Author's Note:**

> this is all beetlemancy's fault

A child’s laughter was heard as he ran to his mother excitedly so he could show her the big bundle of green beans he had collected. She smiled at her son, ran her fingers through his hair and ushered him to his father so he could put the beans in the basket for safe keeping. He beamed up at her and did as she asked. 

“Good job!” He ruffled his son’s hair as he smiled. 

The father’s hands were course, compared to the softer ones of the mother. His hands had seen war, seen death, been the cause of death. A soldier. He was home for a few weeks on leave due to a shoulder injury in the field. He was helping out on their farm while he healed, though his lovely wife wouldn’t let him work too hard. She didn’t understand the need to feel busy, and that’s one of the reasons he loved her so. 

“How about we take these and what your mother’s got, and we come inside for some tea, ja? I got something good from over in Hupperdook where I was stationed.” 

The child beamed and ran to grab his mother while the father headed inside to begin making the tea. Once the pot was on the stove, he saw his son come up out the peripheral of his eye. He gave a small smile. 

“Well, go ahead,  _ Kleine, _ ” the father said, moving out the way for the son. 

The boy concentrated a moment, whispering to himself before fire began to form in his hand before being shot over to the stove where it became lit. The air filled with the scent of smoke and what could only be attributed to the smell of magic. He cheered to himself and his mother came over to peck him on the head. 

“Danke, little one. Want to help me wash the beans we gathered today?” She asked him. He nodded vigorously and brought a chair over to next to his mother so he could help her. 

Meanwhile, the father grabbed some herbs to use in the tea and patiently waited for the water to boil. The mother softly hummed as they cleaned the beans together and put them into two piles: one they would sell, and the other they would use for their own cooking purposes. After a few minutes, the kettle began to steam and whistle, signaling that it was ready. The father took the kettle off the stove, grabbed the three cups they had, and made his way over to the table where they all sat down. The mother placed the herbs and the father poured the tea once she was done. 

"To a bountiful harvest!" The father raised his cup in cheers. 

"To a wonderful helper!" The mother smiled at her son. 

"To us!" The son beamed. 

\-----

"Father! Mother! The mail!" The son ran into the house gripping a scroll in his fist. A teenager. Anxiety and excitement danced in his bright blue eyes. 

The father appeared from the kitchen, while the mother's footsteps were heard down the hallway and she appeared shortly after. 

"Well, open it! Tell us what it says!" The mother exclaimed, putting a hand on her son's shoulder while taking the father's with her other. 

The son nodded, breaking open the seal and unfurling the scroll. He was silent for a moment as he read. His eyes filled with tears and his hand came up to hold the sob in his throat. 

"Br-" 

"I got in!" He exclaimed. "I've been accepted to the Soltryce Academy!" 

There was the briefest moments of silence before there was yelling and hollering coming from all three. They were all so excited. The son had been trying so hard to get into the most prestigious academy in order to study the arcane, which he had a natural knack for. 

"And! And, get this! You guys don't have to worry about tuition!" 

The mother gasped softly.

"Are you serious?" 

"I promise you, mother. You needn't worry about anything. I'm gonna make you proud," he gently placed his hands on her shoulders. 

"Oh,  _ mein Sohn.  _ You've done us so proud. And you will continue to do so. We have no doubts." She kissed his forehead. 

" _ Ich liebe dich, _ " The father gently pat his son's face and gripped the back of his neck. "You are going to rock that very school and show them that those in Blumenthal are just as capable as those showboats in Zedash and Rexxentrum." 

" _ Danke _ , father." 

\----

At first there was pain. Scorching and searing pain that ripped through their skin and bones, tearing them apart at the seams. Their lungs filled with smoke as they tried to fill the house with their screams. 

A husband called out to his wife. Her screams were heard and has desperately tried to reach her, to try to protect her from the fate they both knew was rapidly approaching. 

The confusion of the feeling of familiarity as the flames engulfed them filled their brains. It smelled of the magic their son had shown them before he went to school. They both thanked the gods their son was not in the house when this occurred. 

And then, finally, there was nothing. 

A man approached them. Half elven, wearing black armor decorated in feathers and cordyceps upon his shoulder. He gave a small bow as he greeted them, the couple realizing that that were standing on nothing, just floating in a void. 

"I am sorry you have been fated to this," the man spoke slowly. "It is unfair, but it will also serve a purpose. Sometimes, the gods are cruel. But, I am here to help you pass on." 

"What's going to happen to our son?" The wife asked. 

"This will not be easy for him. He will struggle with this for a long time, but eventually… he will heal. He is so very sorry for what has happened." 

"He knows?" The wife asked. 

"He was there," the husband realized.

"He was led astray. It will take a  _ very long time _ but he will grow from this. He regrets it and will regret it until the day he gets the chance to come to you and tell you how sorry he is himself," the man spoke. His eyes were sad. 

"You'll look after him, won't you? Please?" The wife pleaded, her hands finding the young man's. "I know he didn't mean this. He's a good boy. Don't let anything happen to my baby, please." She was crying now. The husband wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

"I see everything, good lady. I know everything. Right now, he is being transported to a place to keep him away for awhile. He will spend many years here, until he is finally shown the light, though he will not forgive himself. But even right now, he is being set on a path of righteousness. And you will see your son topple nations." 

The void was quiet, save for the wife's sobs. 

"Young man, I don't know who you are. But, please,  _ please, _ take care of my son. He's barely a man, and if what you say is true, then he needs all the help he can get." 

The half elf gave a small smile and nodded. "I shall do my best, my lady. I cannot interfere with the gods, but I will watch him best I can." 

"Thank you," the wife cried. "Thank you." 

"What happens now?" The husband asked. 

"You come with me, and I help you usher on. I promise when it's time for him, I'll bring you back. You and a very colorful friend he will meet." 

The husband nodded, holding his wife and kissing her temple. "This is it, Una. Our boy is alone now. There's nothing we can do." 

The wife nodded. "I know, Leofric. I'm just mourning Bren." 

"I know." 


End file.
